At Least I Can Admit It...

There has been little in the way of knitting progress today. The Sheep has been preoccupied. For, you see, she has the sniffles.

There are really two kinds of people when it comes to illness. The ones who soldier through despite all odds are of one group. These are the folks that you read about who, after being stabbed in the head with a butter knife during Thanksgiving dinner, make sure that the dishes are done and that everybody has a nice chilled beverage before they drive themselves to the emergency room. They rarely take "sick" days nor do they allow little things like blood loss or missing limbs to get in the way of their daily routines. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," is their mantra.

Then there are people like me. A hangnail is reason enough to put in for extended sick leave. Sedation is required for the taking of the blood pressure. The smallest of maladies is cause for lengthy dissertations on all symptoms with anyone who has the misfortune to cross our paths.

I'll admit it: I am just a big baby.

I did get some perspective on the matter last spring when I did, in fact, get actually "sick." It is worth noting that there are still those who don't know how sick I really was given that I had the same level of alarm over a paper cut as I did when the fever reached 105 and the twitching started. You'd think the whole experience of "near death" and all would have taught me some lessons with regard to crying, "wolf" and what the true definition of "unwell" might be.

It hasn't.

My allergies have settled into my chest and I am coughing, hacking, snuffling, aching and whimpering like a plague victim. I am grumpy, needy and unclear as to why the planet continues to spin given that I do not feel well. There has been nothing on the news with regard to my general health and I have yet to see a candlelight vigil forming outside my condo. I find this incomprehensible.

As consolation for the world's general lack of interest in my minor case of the snuffly-wufflies, I have wandered from pillar to post all day clutching a wad of toilet paper (I'm out of tissues) and making little whimpering noises. The cats tired of this sometime around noon and were only just lured out with kitty treats in order that I might have an audience for my award-winning performance as an unwell person. They are not showing the level of concern that I deem appropriate.

Pretending that I am one of those troupers mentioned as part of the first group of "sick types," I did put some time into the Chevron Stripes towel. This represented a great sacrifice on my part as I am still working with a very slippery metal needle that requires quite the grip in order that the soft cotton remain upon them. And I am, of course, weak from my sniffles which has made this quite the trial.

Isn't she just a saint what with the holiday knitting through such adversity and all?

Not much progress. But, as I said, I've been busy with the whining and such. Tonight, I will dose myself with some NyQuil and hopefully sleep off some of the minor symptoms which have caused such angst today. Being as it is only the third week of school, I sort of can't take a sick day just yet. Especially since I'm working in a new building with a new principal. We need to make a good impression.

We need to fake being a "trouper."

SA